Living is a problem because everything dies
by eden alice
Summary: 'It felt unnatural that the world would carry on when Carla closed her eyes and all she could see was destruction.' An AU following the live episode. Contains character death.
1. Chapter 1

Living is a problem because everything dies.

The sky was a murky indigo blue by the time her taxi pulled up outside her building. A new day threatening to spill over but the darkness still holds on. She wants to be inside with the curtains tightly shut by the time the sun rises, she had never resented a new day so much.

As she escaped the confines of her seatbelt she leaned back for the shortest moment and tried to make her muscles relax. They seemed to refuse her command and remained as tight and jumpy as they had the whole silent way home.

Although the driver peered at her through the mirror he was smart enough to remain silent. Janice and Ken had taken a broken Leanne home and she could not even bring herself to look at Nick. She very nearly asked if she could travel with one of them but the words stuck in her throat. It was not her place.

She paid the driver and nodded her thanks sharply. Somehow she had managed to clutch onto her bag all night, it seemed more than ludicrous now. She opened the door and was immediately knocked back by the chaotic chorus of bird song. It was not right, nothing about it was pleasant or life affirming just a jumble of clashing sounds.

The world outside was bitter and for the first time in hours she remembered she was cold in her inappropriate outfit. But then even if she had known she doubted she owned anything tram or fire proof. It was odd to be at a stage where she really should consider investing in some. In the strange blanked gloom of the pre dawn twilight she could hold herself together. When the harsh light of the sun touched her world she would finally have to start to believe and feel and grieve. She was familiar with the upcoming parts so she was quite content to shake numbly for the time being.

She slipped a little on worn heels, legs unstable and painful and she realised at some point while rushing around on the cobbles she has pulled more than one muscle. The alcohol kept her mind and reaction sluggish enough that she could maintain some sort of equilibrium. The world outside her building was uneventful and almost uninhabited at such an early hour. These people's lives had not been changed irreversibly in just one night.

It was common knowledge where she worked and at a more sociable hour she wondered what questions her neighbours would ask, how they would gossip and stare. The nice but overly smiley older couple from down the hall had tired to tell her she was lucky after she was almost burned alive, trapped by her estranged husband. She had still been covered in bruises and limping and she had not felt lucky. She would not be able to face them right now not when once again she was the one left behind, she was alone.

It felt bizarre and unnatural that the world would carry on when she closed her eyes and all she could see was destruction. A sound close to a strangled scream escaped her throat as the taxis engine roared to life and left her truly alone and finally spurred her into action. The walk to her home was clumsy, solemn death march of meandering lines. The stairs echoed shrilly beneath her heels and rolled like sharp gunfire on the walls around her.

She drops her keys three times before she manages to undo her own front door and wishes she hadn't. She wishes she gave up and collapsed on the landing in drunken unconsciousness because this was not home. Not any more and maybe it never was. Sometimes she did not understand why she stayed, people died and left her and she stayed in the flat they shared as if there was enough left. But none of it had ever been truth; both her marriages were set upon foundations of lies and had ended in spectacular bursts of tragedy. And yet she remained but the coffee machine was Paul's, the wallpaper change had been Tony's idea and the candlestick holders a present from Liam.

And now as she shut the door firmly behind herself she wondered of the physical evidence of change Peter had left in her world. But there had not been enough time, he had never been hers not even in the way she had Liam. So maybe his absence was marked in an absence of her own. He had thrown away all her alcohol, poured bottle after bottle down the sink and she had tried so hard to make him proud of her and tried to resist temptation so she'd kept it that way. It's why she had gone to the Rovers first unable to face being alone with a clear head.

Absent, gone there were a lot or words but she could not bring herself to use the d one. Not while Leanne's agonizing screams of grief still haunted the silence. She had headed back to the room when she heard the familiar chaos that came with death. She watched from the doorway as the doctors shook their heads despondently and Leanne broke within Ken's stoic embrace.

And once again she had not belonged. She was left alone with more grief than she thought was humanly possible.


	2. Chapter 2

She wanted to be dead too, wanted to collapse on the cold floor in devastation like she had done at the sight of Liam's still body. But she had done everything she could to fight that urge. She can only begin to comprehend but this time she had hope, hope that Peter would have lived, and hope that the universe could not possibly be that cruel.

She was a fool and without hope she had no idea how she was meant to carry on. It was what she did but suddenly she could not comprehend why it had always been so important to her.

She stumbled through the darkness knowing her home well enough to find her way by touch alone. She had haunted these walls for too long. The curtains were open and there was enough light from the outside to darken the shadows. It was all so horribly fitting.

Instinctively she found herself in front of the glass doors to the balcony, doors she had not opened all winter because of the cold unless Peter had been visiting and had wanted to smoke. A faint, sad smile formed as she found some kind of invisible vindication that at least he had left her some memories. At least he had died knowing she was so grateful for all his help even if the snatched moment hadn't been enough it was something, it was all she had.

A streetlight shines upon the glass and she freezes at the sight of her distorted reflection barely there and distant like the ghost she wished she could be. Somehow she was both empty and full of shock at the sight of her body.

Her face seemed hollow and empty; the tears that streamed down her cheeks and dampened her clothes did not feel like her own. One cheek was still red and slightly swollen but Leanne's slap felt like a life time ago. Her clothes and hair were stained and covered in dust that filled her with an absent wonder. Faced with physical evidence of the night's events it somehow seemed even more unreal.

It was her eyes that made reality impossible to ignore, made her want to vomit or hurt someone, anyone. They were so dark and feverishly bright with bitter pain sat sadly against the paleness of her skin. She wished she could convince herself that she did not recognise herself, as if that would possibly make it just that little easier. Instead she finally realised that this shell of a woman staring back at her had been destined for a long time. She had been eroded by every tragedy, every moment of pain until there was nothing else to lose.

Instinctively she reached out unlocking the doors letting the elements force them open as she stepped out upon the balcony. For a moment she could breathe as the growing wind whipped her hair away from her shoulders. She let herself imagine that it could howl through all her empty places and take the lingering pain with it like the baptism she had never had.

There was a cigarette box on her balcony, squashed and waterlogged so it would not blow away. Its presence was like a crippling punch to her stomach. A physical reminder of what was she never had when the wound was still too open and fresh. She could not look away no matter how it made her eyes sting and her chest constrict as her knees threatened to give way.

With shaking hands she picked up the packet. There were a few cigarettes left as if he had planned to come back and claim them. The sob that forced its way from her throat was closer to a wail but was lost in the sound of a car backfiring. The thin sticks had been destroyed by the elements and just for a moment she craved nothing more than to smoke them herself. Only she was too late once again. The symmetry was beyond horrific.

There was a rolling anger and a growing sense of injustice of it all. A hatred as the violent oranges of sunrise started to infiltrate the sky. A strange warmth against her face. She had not planned on seeing through another day. It all was the only thing that compelled her to stay standing. She tossed the packet away watching with a frown as it fell back down to earth. She knew what she had to do.


End file.
